On the Homefront
by cwiggle
Summary: Sweating. Struggling. Drowning. More behind each of the Team as they experience the invasion of their home.


**So, I'm back! I know it's been a while. (Like, a year) Anyone who is for some reason still following me knows I'm about the worst procrastinator on the planet. Oh well. I was watching the Homefront episode, and thought about this. Enjoy! Please comment because I'd like to know how I did!**

* * *

 _Sweating._

Disturbing, unpleasant, but true.

The fire was hot. And as if that wasn't enough, M'Gann was already unconscious. Martians and Fire don't mix. Not at all.

Then again, neither do Atlantians.

Kaldur held M'Gann to try to cool her with his own lower temperature. He was Atlantean, and so he gradually adjusted to extreme temperatures. But the heat was getting to him faster than he wanted to admit.

His throat was dry, his skin felt on like it was on fire, he felt nauseated and might throw up if he wasn't already so tired.

And then the intensity of the heat increased.

He tried to curl around M'Gann to protect her from the full force of it, but he knew he wouldn't last too much longer. Spots were beginning to dance around his vision and the gills on his neck had ceased in aiding his need for oxygen. He was on his own and breathing like a human was unnatural and strenuous.

Time began to melt together as he struggled to stay awake. At some point, Robin's voice woke him from delirium. Artemis and Superboy talking to him... Or perhaps he was starting to hallucinate. Either way, he told the truth.

M'gann was still breathing. _He_ was breathing. He didn't breathe. It hurt to breathe. Neither of them could last much longer.

It wasn't long after that when the darkness overcame him and he fell to M'Gann's side. His consciousness faded in and out and an eternity passed in mere minutes.

* * *

 _Struggling._

Wally had never wished more that he could phase through solid objects than he did at that moment.

 _Connor freaking Superboy_ couldn't get break through.

Dang, why did they have to make these hero-bikes so well?

Red-not-Tornado didn't seem to have a beef with them though.

Wally tried to pull his arms free. His leg, maybe? His hand? Just his hand? No luck.

And of course, on the platform above, M'Gann and Kaldur were stuck in fire. Under different circumstances, he might have cracked a joke. _They were in the heat of the moment._

He thought of those times in movies where people dislocated their thumbs to break out of handcuffs or cut off their legs to escape bear traps in the middle of the woods. Wally was too stuck to even _attempt,_ or really, even _consider_ attempting anything like that. He exclaimed in frustration. No luck. None.

And naturally, no one had seen or heard from Robin and Artemis. Artemis was probably sulking somewhere in Star City, but Robin always came and never refrained from coming without telling _someone_.

So, where was he?

But then the robots told him. Robin was in the Cave. He could save them!

Oh, and Artemis was there too...Fine.

All was well and good until the water spawned out of nowhere and began to rise. Crap.

* * *

Connor pulled and squirmed in the melted motorcycle that had become his prison.

He thought he couldn't try any harder until the water level kept rising. He called up on a regular basis to check on M'Gann. And Kaldur too. But as long as Kaldur answered, he knew their leader had to be okay. His reports became worse and worse.

The water was chest high when Robin and Artemis came. They. Failed. Why didn't they try harder?

He tried not to blame them, but his anger and frustration was rising. Why was this happening? Why was he stuck? Why couldn't he do _anything_?

Water kept rising, robots kept counting down. Robin's disc kept them in communication, but that wasn't doing anything except confirming that they were all doomed.

A plan? Finally. Anything. Anything. He had to keep M'Gann alive. And Kaldur. And Wally. A plan.

He shouted. He didn't pay attention to the words, just shouted, trying to put humor into his voice.

He was nervous. Wally was nervous. It was obvious, he knew. He shouted anyway.

 _Robin get down!_

A column of water rose in front of him. Well enough for both cycle-bound captives to see. Robin. Motionless.

Anger melted away to hopelessness. They were dead. They were dead. They were dead.

The water rose up to his chin. He tilted his head back as far back as he could. He sucked in a deep gulp of air as the cold liquid rose beyond his nose and mouth.

They were dead. They were dead. They were all dead.

* * *

 _Drowning._

Not as fun as it sounds.

And, Robin thought, it really doesn't sound fun at all, so why was that phrase always said about negative things?

Not the time, he knew, but he was trying not to think about the burn in his chest as he held his breath and stayed still.

He seemed to have been drowning more in one night than he had in several months. That was because they'd taken care of Killer Croc.

And that reminded him of Batman...Where was he? Batman should be there, should help him...

Dick blinked behind his mask. Lack of oxygen brought on that realization that yes, he was Dick Grayson then. Not Robin. Robin should've worked faster, done something, gotten out of the way, been there for his friends.

Dick Grayson was stuck. And drowning. And losing his vision.

He could see Wally and Connor below him, just barely, and they weren't struggling anymore. They were lost. He'd done that, he thought. He didn't get there in time.

Where was Batman? Bruce?

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and his lungs screamed for air.

To almost the farthest side he could make his eyes go, Kaldur and M'Gann were passed out in that tiny, firey cage. If one of them moved an inch in any direction, they'd be burned. Literally.

A brief thought floated across his mind about the nature of the term burned, but it was forgotten as soon as it appeared.

Brain damage, Dick thought. No oxygen equals brain damage.

He'd practiced holding his breath. He wasn't as good as Bruce. Not yet.

He tried.

 _I tried_ , Dick thought. _The word 'I' is in tried, and I did. And I'm sorry._

And then he lost consciousness all together.

* * *

 _Sweating._

Yeah, she was was sweating. Not from the heat. Not currently. It was a close call, but not yet.

Artemis saw Kaldur and M'Gann out like lights in the cage.

Sweating. Yeah, nervs'll do that to you.

* * *

 _Struggling._

Oh, she was struggling. She had seen Connor and Kid Idiot...No, Wally. Her friends. They'd stopped. They tried to keep their heads above water, but that was just on principle. She could see they knew there was no luck.

So yeah, she struggled down the vents. Alone. Completely alone. No arrows.

Artemis fell. She fell into a heap and she struggled to keep down tears.

No, she didn't cry...

Yes. She did.

* * *

 _Drowning._

In her own thoughts. She had a plan. Last chance. She tried to keep her mind straight.

If she missed, it was _all over_.

Despair wrestled with hope. Anger circled around the calm she was trying so hard to maintain.

She'd seen Robin drowning. He wasn't moving where he lay behind the robots. _Not moving._

Another thought sent her back into the watery doubts of her mind.

She'd surrender. Yes, surrender.

She leaped, she landed, she twisted, she pulled back...

Artemis let go.


End file.
